


Of Clocks and Coffee Shops

by RaphSieg007



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, How original, M/M, Soulmate AU, Terrible title I know, and a soulmate au, if anyone's got any better ideas please tell me, yes it's another bloody coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaphSieg007/pseuds/RaphSieg007
Summary: He catches sight of the ever-counting clock on his arm - the one that counts the years, days, hours, and minutes until he meets his soulmate - and sighs. Most people find their soulmates in their eighteenth year, but Newt has not been so lucky.
   Not that he really cares, of course. He's got a perfectly decent life without the inclusion of a soulmate, thank you very much.Or, yet another coffee shop/soulmate AU that no-one asked for but I wrote anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt I found on Tumblr: _Time/Countdown AU: Reverse one where the clock starts at 00:00:00:00 from the moment you’re born and stops counting the moment you meet your soulmate, so it’s like a reminder that “It took me 19 years, 11 months, 20 hours, and 13 seconds to meet you, you fuck, and you do it by spilling coffee on me, thanks, now my laptop’s broken—what, you’re buying me a new one? Okay.”_
> 
> As usual, I have no beta, so any mistakes are of my own doing.

The shrill sound of his wake-up alarm rouses Newt out of an otherwise peaceful sleep, and he attempts to reach his phone to turn it off without having to open his eyes. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, he gives up and opens his eyes, immediately squinting as he realises he left the curtains open last night and now the sunlight is bearing down directly onto his face like some kind of spotlight.

He rolls over and turns his alarm off with a groan. His arm aches as if he's been lying on it and the rest of his body protests at the movement. Why, oh why did he have to apply for the early morning shift at work? That was definitely a mistake, he tells himself as he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

It's not that Newt doesn't like his job - far from it; he rather enjoys working at the 'hipster' coffee shop in town (so nicknamed because people only really go there when the bigger and more well-known shop - the name of which may or may not rhyme with 'Farducks' - is too busy). It's just that he doesn't like getting up at stupid o'clock in the morning to do it.

Newt runs a hand through his hair, grimacing as he realises how greasy it is. He badly needs a shower before he goes. As he reaches over to place his phone back on the bedside table, he catches sight of the ever-counting clock on his arm - the one that counts the years, days, hours, and minutes until he meets his soulmate - and sighs. It currently stands at 19 years, 250 days, 4 hours, and 30 minutes. Most people, including all of Newt's friends, find their soulmates in their eighteenth year, but Newt has not been so lucky.

Not that he really cares, of course. He's got a perfectly decent life without the inclusion of a soulmate, thank you very much.

There is still part of him, however, that remains optimistic and tells him every morning, "Today could be the day," and honestly, he believes it every damn time.

Shaking his head, Newt throws off the covers, shivering as the cold air from his fridge of a bedroom hits him. _I really need to get the central heating fixed,_ he thinks as he briskly makes his way to the bathroom. _At least the hot water works..._

The shower itself is pleasant enough. The warm water seems to wash away his fatigue like dirt on a windscreen and leaves a blissfully calm feeling in him that only a shower can manage to do. Getting out, on the other hand, is not as fun. Especially when he realises he didn't get any clothes ready before getting in.

Wrapped in an annoyingly thin towel that does absolutely nothing to keep him warm he rifles through his chest of drawers to find the least crumpled clothes he can. It's not his fault that he forgot to iron some clothes last night, after all - the season finale of Quantico was on, and obviously that took priority over ironing clothes.

The clothes he manages to find consist of a plain white t-shirt, beige trousers, and a brown zip-up hoodie, which don't seem to go too badly with each other. They still look like they've just come out of the tumble dryer, but they'll have to do, since there's no time to iron anything now. The only problem with his workplace not having a uniform is that it means the employees have to make an effort to choose something decent to wear so that they don't make the shop look bad. Honestly, Newt reflects, he'd rather have to deal with a uniform.

He quickly towel dries his hair and gets dressed in record speed, warming himself up slightly in the process from the quick movement, and then he's just about ready to go. He quickly looks in the mirror, deciding to leave his hair in the currently messy state it is rather than mess about trying to make it look tidier.

Newt decides to forgo breakfast, since he can have some when his shift ends, and quickly grabs the badge with his name on it - the only thing resembling any kind of uniform the employees have to wear - as well as his wallet and keys, and then makes his way out. He bashes his leg on a counter, knocking a book off it as he does. _Ouch._ Ignoring the pain now blooming in his thigh, he leaves his flat and locks it up.

The walk - or rather the limp - to work is a quiet one; this early in the morning, people are usually still asleep, and those who aren't are either heading home from night shifts, or, like Newt, on their way to a dawn shift at work. Newt shivers in the crisp morning air and wishes he'd brought a scarf or a hat, although he's not surprised the thought didn't cross his mind. He's not exactly the best at remembering things like that.

 

The Glade is a small shop on the corner of a reasonably busy street which tends to stand out from the rest of the buildings on the road due to its exterior being painted in various shades of green in an attempt to resemble the texture of grass. (That was the work of Alby, one of Newt's old co-workers who resigned about two months ago; he's quite the artist, not that he'd admit it).

Newt arrives about five minutes before his shift begins. As he enters the shop, he sees Brenda, his co-worker, talking to her girlfriend Teresa. They certainly hadn't had any problems finding their soulmates. In fact, it was in this very shop that Teresa had come in one morning with the intention of buying a coffee and instead leaving with both a coffee and Brenda's phone number. They had realised they were soulmates when their hands brushed as Brenda passed Teresa her coffee and their clocks both stopped. That had also ended with coffee being spilt all over the counter due to both girls clutching their arms at the same time (the only downside to meeting one's soulmate - the pain caused when the clock stops), but Brenda and Newt's boss had let them off, given how special the meeting of one's soulmate is meant to be.

Brenda and Teresa have been inseparable ever since, and quite frankly, everyone working at the shop, including Newt, finds them adorable.

They both look up as Newt walks in, and Teresa grins. "Speak of the devil!" she says happily. "We were just talking about you, Newt!"

Newt raises an eyebrow before going over and jumping up to sit on one of the counters. "That's not ominous at all," he says. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"Nothing bad," Brenda reassures him, patting him on the shoulder. "We were just discussing whether or not you'd look good as a brunette. I personally think you would, but Teresa doesn't think so."

"Hey!" Teresa folds her arms in a show of indignation. "That's not what I said!" She turns to Newt before adding, "I just think that you look good enough the way you are and that a different hair colour wouldn't really have any effect."

"Thanks, I guess," Newt replies, laughing.

He's about to ask exactly how that conversation came about when his and Brenda's boss - an older man named Janson with rodent-like features that have earnt him the nickname Ratman amongst his employees - walks in with a sour expression on his face and immediately shoos Newt away from the counter, muttering that, "This is a place of work, Isaac, not a lounge area." He makes an exaggerated show of wiping the counter down, as if it's going to cause an epidemic if he doesn't.

Newt resists the urge to correct the older man on his name; the only person who's allowed to call him Isaac is his mum, and only because she never liked the nickname Newt, saying that she doesn't want to call him by the name of a type of salamander. No matter how many times Newt has asked Janson to call him by his nickname, the Ratman still insists on calling him Isaac, so by this point he's given up on the whole endeavour. Luckily, Janson's the only one, though, since Newt got his nickname put on his name badge rather than his actual name, so his fellow workers and customers are none the wiser.

"Come on," Janson says impatiently. "Get to work!" And with that he vanishes into the employees' bathroom. _Probably to admire himself in the mirror,_ Newt thinks.

Teresa picks up her bag and kisses Brenda on the cheek with a quick, "See you later," before rushing out of the shop. Unfortunately for them, she doesn't work at The Glade - she just comes in with Brenda to hang out before the shop opens, and then she leaves to go to her own job across town.

Newt watches Teresa as she leaves, then shifts his gaze to Brenda with a smirk. "Seems like you two are doing well," he comments, preparing the till for when a customer comes in.

"Yeah, you could say that," Brenda replies. She goes silent for a few seconds, and then, with a smirk of her own, turns to him and says, in full seriousness, "The sex is phenomenal."

Newt suddenly coughs, having accidentally choked on his own spit, which makes Brenda laugh. "Really didn't need to know that," he says once he's recovered. The last thing he needs to hear about when he's at work - or anywhere for that matter, is Brenda and Teresa's sex life.

Luckily, a customer walks in and he allows himself to be distracted by his work.

 

***

 

Newt glances at the clock or the sixth time in the last hour, feeling a rush of delight when he sees that there are only two minutes until his shift ends. About an hour in, he was seriously regretting his decision to skip out on breakfast when his stomach started to rumble. By now he's been working for almost five hours, and being surrounded by the smells of food really hasn't helped.

Brenda seems to notice his change in mood - not surprising, given that she's been telling Newt to _cheer up and stop being such a crank_ all morning. She doesn't share his anticipation for ten o'clock to arrive, however, since she works a longer shift and doesn't get off work until twelve.

"Newt," she says as she finishes preparing a large cappuccino. "Could you take this over to the guy at the table by the window, please?"

Newt's about to argue that his shift's ending, but before he can even open his mouth, Brenda gestures to the line of customers that's almost out of the door. "I've kinda got my hands full here."

With a sigh, Newt grudgingly takes the mug and saucer from her. "As you wish, milady," he replies sarcastically. 

He almost regrets the sarcasm when he actually looks at the customer he's about to serve, however.

The guy is about Newt's age, and from what Newt can tell from the side angle he's seeing of the guy, he's pretty damn attractive. There's a tuft of brown hair peeking out from under the dark purple beanie that's precariously perched on his head, and he's also wearing a pair of glasses balanced on his slightly turned-up nose that really don't look like they should suit him as well as they do.

Newt only realises he's staring when Brenda pointedly clears her throat, obviously aimed at him despite her focus not leaving the customer in front of her. "Go on," she hisses at him before rolling her eyes at the customer, who grins, obviously realising what's going on.

Newt takes a deep breath and then expertly weaves in and out of the maze of chairs, tables, and customers. The guy at the table doesn't seem to notice him coming; he doesn't even look up from where he's tapping away on what looks like quite an expensive laptop. _Hopefully I can just give him the coffee and not completely embarrass myself,_ Newt thinks.

Of course, it's at that exact moment the universe decides to play a practical joke on him.

Just as he's about to reach the table, his ankle catches on something (he doesn't quite see what), and he oh-so-gracefully falls over, just managing to hold onto to the mug and saucer as he falls, though he drops it upon landing.

The coffee itself goes flying out of the cup and just so happens to land directly on the guy's expensive-looking laptop because the universe obviously hates Newt and wants him to suffer.

Adding insult to injury, he also whacks his head on the table leg before he hits the floor. _God, could this have gone any more badly?_

Newt glances up at the guy - whose laptop he probably just destroyed, by the way - expecting him to completely freak out.

What he sees, though, is an expression of concern, much to his surprise. "Are you alright?" the guy asks, getting off his chair and kneeling down next to Newt. He holds out his hand for Newt to take, and from this angle his glasses have slipped down his nose a little, allowing Newt to take a good look at his eyes - eyes that are the colour of a fine whiskey; eyes that, frankly, Newt can imagine finding himself staring at for a long time if he's not careful.

Before he can catch himself doing just that, he takes the guy's hand, pressing the other hand to his forehead, which feels like someone's whacked it with a baseball bat, and _oh, look, there's blood._

He doesn't have much time to think about it, however, since the moment his hand makes contact with the other guy's, a searing pain ripples through his forearm, and he grabs it with a hiss of pain. The other guy makes a similar noise, clutching his own arm, and for a moment Newt's heart feels like it's frozen. _Could it really be?_

All the eyes in the shop are focused on them, he notices belatedly, and all of them are looking hopeful - they know exactly what's happening. Newt looks down at his arms where the clock has most definitlely stopped. He looks up to where the other guy is now staring at him and almost looks away from the intensity of his gaze.

The guy lets out a short laugh and pushes his glasses up his nose. "So," he says, amusement colouring his tone. "It took me 18 years, 147 days, 10 hours, and 26 minutes to meet you, and you did it by spilling coffee on my laptop."

"I'm sorry," Newt blurts out. "I'll pay for a new one, I swear. I don't know what tripped me up, but it was probably my own bloody feet, and honestly I'm just so, _so_ sorry, and--" He is abruptly cut off when there is suddenly a pair of lips on his and all he can think about is _damn, this guy is a good kisser_.

The sound of cheering starts up around them and they relucantly pull away from each other. The other people in the shop are all watching them, and most of them have big smiles on their faces. _I guess most of them know what it's like to meet their soulmates, then,_ Newt thinks, looking around at all of the happy faces staring at him and his soulmate.

_My soulmate... That's a nice thought..._

The guy laughs again and, for the second time he offers his hand to Newt. "I'm Thomas," he says, smiling.

Newt hesitates for a moment before taking his hand and shaking it. "Name's Newt," he replies. "As if it wasn't already obvious," he adds, laughing as he points at the badge with his name on it. "Nice to meet you, Tommy."

The nickname slips out without him realising, but Thomas doesn't seem to mind. He points at Newt's forehead. "We'd better get something to put on that."

Newt nods and lets Thomas lead him back to the counter. Nobody gets in the way - they all pass to let them through, either through concern for Newt or through awe at the fact that the two boys have found their soulmates right in front of them. Despite Newt's hatred for being the centre of attention, he find himself smiling. He's still in disbelief at the whole situation.

Brenda hands Thomas a slightly damp cloth with a grin. "Congrats on finding your soulmate," she says. "This one's a keeper." She winks at Newt before going off to serve the rest of the customers.

Thomas turns back to Newt, gently dabbing the wound with the cloth. "I'm sure you are," he says quietly, smirking when Newt rolls his eyes.

"Ignore her," Newt replies. "She's always like that." He winces as the cloth touches the still stinging wound, and Thomas flashes a sympathetic smile at him.

Of all the ways Newt expected this day to go, this is not one of them. Not that he's complaining. He has managed to get a soulmate who is not only hot but also very sweet today, after all, so really, it's been a successful day so far.

Besides, it can only get better from here, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Did anyone spot all the references? xD (The Newt as a brunette joke came about because I watched Nowhere Boy the day before writing this...)
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated should you want to leave any! :)
> 
> come and stalk me on my [tumblr!](http://raphlee007.tumblr.com/)


End file.
